


Wildflowers

by CactusPot



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: ((at least I tried to write this with angst)), Canon Compliant, F/M, Friendship/Love, Light Angst, Love Triangles, POV Multiple, Strained Friendships, TDWriMo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27961028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusPot/pseuds/CactusPot
Summary: "Remember when you thought she’d be your best friend?" said the tiny voice in Zoey’s head. She hadn’t forgotten the first few days on the island when she and Anne Maria had joked around like they’d known each other for years. They’d done their makeup side-by-side, offering each other tips and compliments. Then Vito had shown up, and, well, Anne Maria had shown her true colors, hadn’t she?~~~Revenge of the Island is wrapping up. Over the course of the season, many friendships and romances have developed; some relationships, however, whithered before they ever had a chance to blossom.
Relationships: Anne Maria & Zoey (Total Drama), Anne Maria/Vito (Total Drama), Mike/Zoey (Total Drama)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Wildflowers

_Oh my gosh, we won! We actually won_! Zoey’s hands shook with waning adrenaline. The victory had come at the cost of her back—now sore after being thrown off the totem pole—but still, her team had won their very first Total Drama challenge. _That_ was something to write home about.

After the group photo—taken at Chris’s insistence—the campers moved into their cabins. Zoey stood in the doorway, hesitantly clutching the straps of her backpack. Would it be rude to pick a bunk before her teammates did? What if Zoey picked a bottom bunk but her teammates also wanted bottom bunks? Would they draw straws or—

“Move it, Red.” Jo, who apparently had no such qualms, barged past Zoey and dumped all her stuff on the left bunk.

“Sorry,” Zoey squeaked. Out of everyone she’d met so far, Jo intimidated her the most. “Um, I’ll just take the other bunk bed, then.”

Jo didn’t reply; Zoey bit her lip. _Did I say something wrong_?

 _Don’t worry about it_ , she told herself. _Seriously, Zoey. Desperation is not a good look_. She settled down on the bunk bed opposite of Jo and began the unpacking process by unzipping her duffel bag.

As Zoey arranged her sandals at the foot of her bed, their third roommate threw open the door.

“Lousy interns lost my third suitcase!” Anne Maria complained as she dragged the other two through the doorway.

“Oh no!” Zoey gasped. What an awful way to start off the competition.

Jo wasn’t impressed. “That’s your own fault. Who needs three suitcases?”

“Ay, the last one had all my extra hair sprays. Kids better figure out where my suitcase went, ‘cuz I’m _quittin’_ if my poof gets ruined ‘cuz of them.” Anne Maria looked around the room before settling her gaze on Zoey. “D’you mind if I take the top bunk, sugar?”

“Um, sure.” Zoey nodded quickly. “I mean, nope!” _How articulate, Zoey_.

They continued unpacking in near silence. Eventually, Jo announced she was going on a victory run. “See you guys at dinner or something,” she said as she jogged out the door.

Zoey was tempted to leave too, mostly so she could talk to Mike, the cutie on their team. _But what about_ … She watched Anne Maria dump various cosmetics on the top of their shared dresser. She couldn’t let this opportunity pass her by.

“I like your nail polish, Anne Maria,” Zoey said. “Um, what color is it?”

With a flick of her wrist, Anne Maria turned to face Zoey. “Thanks, doll. It’s called, uh… jeez, lemme think. I know it had a real long name.” She dug through her makeup bag and pulled out a bottle of electric pink nail polish. “All Your Dreams In Vending Machines,” Anne Maria read off the bottom of the bottle.

“Cool,” Zoey said.

“Yeah, I rock it,” Anne Maria agreed. “By the way, _you_ rock that lip color. It’s totally killer on ya.”

Zoey beamed. “Oh my gosh, thanks!”

“‘Course,” Anne Maria said. “So, what d'ya prefer: winged eyeliner or smoky eyes?”

And that’s how it began. They talked about makeup for a solid half-hour. Despite their major style differences, it was an interesting conversation; Zoey was positively glowing the whole time.

 _Are we friends? Is this my first friend_? She’d love to be friends with Anne Maria. Maybe they could make friendship bracelets or braid each other’s hair. _Note to self: tell the confessional camera about this later_. It would be so cute for them to watch the show when it aired and look back at the beginning of their friendship!

At some point, the conversation shifted from makeup to the competition in general. More specifically: the rest of their castmates.

“The guys here ain’t too shabby,” Anne Maria commented. “I dunno. Depends on who ya ask.”

“Yeah,” Zoey agreed with a wistful glance out the window. “To tell you the truth, I think Mike is pretty cute.”

Anne Maria’s eyebrows rose. “I was mostly talkin’ about Lightning.”

“ _Lightning_?” Zoey repeated.

“Yeah. He ain’t the _hottest_ guy I’ve evah met, but he’s still pretty hot, all things considered.” Anne Maria shrugged. “What can I say? Guys with muscles, they’re my weakness.”

Zoey couldn’t say she agreed, but it was whatever. In fact, it was probably a good thing they had different tastes in guys. That way, they could avoid potential drama.

* * *

“Squirrels are a menace,” Mike declared.

Zoey laughed. “What did they ever do to you?”

It’d been two hours since Lightning had unceremoniously kicked her out of the competition. And while placing third disappointed Zoey, she was ecstatic to be reunited with her boyfriend of four days. After settling into her room, Zoey had returned to the main level and prepared tea for both of them. Now they relaxed on Playa Des Losers’ outdoor patio, both of them squeezed into a lounge chair.

Mike took a sip from his cup of tea and answered her question. “I don’t have very many childhood memories, but I vividly remember a squirrel breaking into my bedroom and ransacking the place.” He lowered his voice. “I think it was rabid.”

Zoey leaned closer into the crook of his arm, careful to balance her own cup of tea on her knee. “I dunno, Mike. When they’re not attacking children’s bedrooms, squirrels are kinda cute. I mean, have you seen their fluffy tails?”

“Have you seen their beady little eyes?” Mike grimaced.

“Hey, if you have a problem with beady little eyes, I’m not letting you meet Miss Puffycheeks.” Zoey raised her cup to her lips. 

At the same moment, the kitchen lights went on. Through the patio’s glass doors, Zoey watched Brick and Jo walk into the room. Right as she raised her hand to wave at Brick, Zoey realized there was a third member in their party.

Her shoulders tensed and her grip on her cup handle tightened at the sight of Anne Maria. 

_Remember when you thought she’d be your best friend_? said the tiny voice in Zoey’s head. She hadn’t forgotten the first few days on the island when she and Anne Maria had joked around like they’d known each other for years. They’d done their makeup side-by-side, offering each other tips and compliments. Then Vito had shown up, and, well, Anne Maria had shown her true colors, hadn’t she?

So invested in her internal monologue was Zoey that she realized too late that she was still staring at Anne Maria. Her could’ve-been-BFF turned and locked eyes with Zoey. They held each other’s gaze for a millisecond before Anne Maria furrowed her thick eyebrows, wrinkled her nose, and pivoted to face Brick and Jo instead of Zoey. 

_What right does she have to be mad_? Zoey pursed her lips. _This is her fault_.

A large hand waved in front of her face. “Zoooooey,” Mike sing-songed.

“Huh?” She blinked. “What’s the matter?”

“You zoned out for a few moments,” Mike said. “Everything okay in Zoeyland?”

“I’m fine,” Zoey assured him. She took her long-awaited sip of tea. “Was just thinking, that’s all.”

“About…?” Mike prompted.

“Nothing in particular.” _It doesn’t matter anymore_. She had her friends: Mike, Cameron, Brick, Sam. Anne Maria could’ve been a part of that list.

Too late now.

“So, uh, what were you saying?” Zoey set her teacup down.

“I was telling you that Miss Puffycheeks is _totally_ different from squirrels,” Mike explained.

Zoey adjusted the wildflower in her hair as she listened to Mike talk; he was almost enough to distract from the pit in her stomach.

* * *

As soon as Jo started talking about heptathlons, Anne Maria checked out of the conversation. She’d come to the kitchen with Jo and Brick to find some ice cream—for herself, not the health nut dream team—but apparently, her luck’d run out, and now she was stuck between a rock and another rock, which was to say, boring sports talk and watching Mike and Zoey cuddle on the patio.

Anne Maria rummaged through the freezer, partially to find that dang ice cream and partially to distract herself from the sight of Mike-slash-Vito curled up with someone who wasn’t her.

 _Oh, Vito. What a charmer_. It’d been what, the fourth day? Fifth day? The afternoon after the waterski challenge. Everyone else had changed back into their day clothes, but Anne Maria chose to stay on the beach for a while, suntannin’. In her humble opinion, the beach was pretty relaxin' when you weren’t doin’ one of Chris’s crazy challenges.

Lyin’ in the sand, soakin’ in the rays, she’d had her eyes shut when suddenly the soft shuffling of footsteps sinking into sand reached her ears.

“Hey babe, I was lookin’ for ya everywhere.”

Anne Maria pulled herself upright and twisted around. Vito was approachin’, shirtless as usual, hands tucked behind his back.

“Vito!” she squealed, hopping up from her spot on the sand. “Guess you couldn’t stay pretendin’ to be Mike long, couldja?”

“Came out for a shower,” Vito said. “Figured I’d stop by and say hello to the hottest girl on this wacko island while I got the chance.”

At the time, Anne Maria hadn’t understood his phrasing, but she also hadn’t cared. “Aw, thanks doll. I’m gettin’ my tan on.” She raised a golden arm to prove her point. “Care to join?”

“‘Course, cutie.” Vito plopped down next to her and flexed his left bicep. “I didn’t get enough tannin’ in earlier. Svetlana just had to switch out, ain’t she?”

“ _So_ rude,” Anne Maria agreed. She glanced at his right arm, still hidden behind his back. “Ay, somethin’ wrong with your hand?”

“Oh, this? Nah, I was just savin’ the surprise.” Vito withdrew his arm, revealing he held a bouquet of brightly colored wildflowers. “I picked these for you, babe.”

Anne Maria wasn’t the flustery type, but her cheeks warmed and she couldn’t help the grin that spilled across her face. “That’s so thoughtful! Thanks, hun!” She took the flowers from him. Even though Anne Maria was more of a diamond kinda gal than a flower kinda gal, and even though there was a good chance these weeds were mutated or somethin’, at the end of the day, it was the thought that counted.

She tucked one of the wildflowers behind her ear. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks,” Vito proclaimed with a broad grin. He’d leaned in to kiss her, and she’d met him in the middle.

Yeah, that’d been cute.

Her hands closed around a freezing-cold tub of ice cream, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Hey, can someone grab me a spoon?” Anne Maria asked, straightening up.

“Find it yourself, Lazy.” Jo fished around in a drawer, tossed a spoon at Anne Maria, and then resumed telling Brick about the bajillion times she’d won some award or whateva.

That afternoon had been the last time Anne Maria'd seen Vito. Her hopes hadn’t been high after she’d gotten hurled, but they’d sunk even lower when Mike arrived at the Playa two days later. Sure, she’d listened along with everyone else when he explained how he’d gotten kicked off, but afterward, she’d disappeared into one of the Playa’s many lounges. 

_I ain’t a coward, I’m just savin’ myself the trouble_ , Anne Maria had insisted to herself as she shuffled through a playlist on her iPod—smuggled in via poof, of course.

The first song on her playlist had just finished when Mike appeared in the doorway.

“Knock knock.” He stood there lookin’ as awkward as a model wearing last season’s fashions.

She wasn’t gonna be rude, duh, so she took out her earbuds. “Heya, Mike. Vito around?”

His forced chuckle sounded more like the squawks of a strangled chicken. “Yeah, uh, that’s why I’m here, actually. I need to talk to you about that.”

“Figured as much.” Anne Maria patted the space beside her, and Mike sat down on the couch.

“So here’s the deal with Vito.”

It was the first time she’d heard the phrase Dissociative Identity Disorder—or Multiple Personality Disorder, which apparently Mike only called it when the cameras were rollin'. The stuff Mike told her explained a lot. A bunch of it went over her head, but she’d probably figure it out eventually.

“‘Kay, so you and Vito are two different peeps?” Anne Maria summarized.

“Yep.” Mike nodded.

 _Princess Goody Goody should’ve minded her business, then_.

“Um, and there’s one more thing,” Mike said. “Zoey and I are officially dating. Woo hoo.” His smile faltered as he studied her face.

But if Mike was expecting a pissy reaction, he was in for a disappointment. “Okay,” Anne Maria said as neutrally as she could muster. “Congrats to the happy couple.”

“Thanks, Anne Maria.”

“But if Zoey’s dating you, then I can date Vito, right?” She was itchin’ to whip out a hair spray right now. “Two different people, two different relationships. It ain’t cheating.”

Mike’s face fell. “We just got diagnosed. Like, literally a few weeks before the network told me I got onto Total Drama.” He laughed nervously. A Mike trait; Vito would never be so skittish with his words. “I don’t think getting into two relationships would be good for the system. Not when we’re still figuring things out.”

She held back the scowl that was twitching at her lips. For Mike’s sake, mostly.

“I’m sorry, Anne Maria,” he said.

“‘Kay. That’s fine.” Yeah, she _really_ needed a hair spray. “I get it.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Who’m I supposed to be mad at? You gotta prioritize yourself, I get that.”

Okay, she’d lied to him that night. If there was one person that was receiving the full brunt of Anne Maria’s anger, it was Zoey. Little Miss Perfect would probably spend the rest of her life gloating about it.

Anne Maria could practically imagine Zoey bragging about it, her face pink as she clutched onto Mike’s scrawny arm for dear life. “Yeah, Anne Maria _tried_ to steal my man, but I got him in the end.”

And here was the worst part: Anne Maria couldn’t say zip to anyone, ‘cause everyone at the Playa at least kinda liked Zoey. Except for Scott and Jo, who were both preoccupied with physical therapy and constantly trying to one-up Brick, respectively.

In any case, she couldn’t run around slanderin’ Zoey’s name unless she wanted to make a buncha enemies. Sure, once she got home tomorrow she’d have a good ‘Zoey is the _worst_ ’ sesh with her gal pals. But until then, Anne Maria was stuck zippin’ her lips and throwin’ away the key like it was last season’s jeans.

An aggressive snap returned Anne Maria to the present. Jo was lookin’ at her weirdly. “Earth to Anne Maria?”

“Whadaya want?” Anne Maria asked with a snooty look of her own.

“You’ve been trying to scoop out ice cream but you didn’t bother taking off the lid,“ Jo said derisively. “I think that hairspray finally seeped into your brain.”

Anne Maria looked at her unopened ice cream. So she had. “Whatevs. We all zone out sometime, toots.”

“You alright, ma’am?” Brick asked. The concern in his furrowed brow suggested maybe he’d caught on to how she was feelin’. They kinda had a bond, Anne Maria figured, the kinda bond that comes from getting hurled out of a catapult together.

“Just fine, hun,” Anne Maria assured him. She pried open the tub lid.

Maybe her relationship with Vito wouldn’t have lasted long anyways. Maybe she was gettin’ worked up over nothin’. Or maybe they would’ve been the greatest power couple since Romeo and Juliet. Maybe she and Vito could’ve traveled the world together, vacationing at all the hottest spots, or they coulda had a gaggle of cute kids. Heck, they could’ve done both.

Guess she’d never know.

* * *

The hair on the back of Vito’s scalp prickled, and a frown crossed his chiseled face.

“Penny for ya thoughts,” Manitoba drawled as he fiddled with the frays on his lasso.

“Ayo, I think…” Vito paused. “Nah, fugget about it. I’m just _bored_.”

“Aren’t we all,” Chester grumbled. 

All the alters, except for Mike and, uh, the _other_ one, clustered around a table in the headspace. The room needed decoration, in Vito’s opinion. Anything to distract from the giant portrait of Mike that was glued to the wall.

“I haven’t been topside in days!” Chester continued. “It’s too dark in here. Reminds me of my days as a young’un.” His wrinkly face darkened. “Before the war.”

 _What a drama queen_ , Vito thought.

His fellow alters apparently thought the same. “Pipe down, old fart,” Manitoba stuck his tongue out. “None of us has been topside in a while. Gotta suck it up and deal with it.”

Svetlana’s head was in her hands, and she sighed. “I am missing ze open fields. Zat island vas so nice.”

“You guys are a bunch of suckers,” Vito snapped. “I was the only one of yous that had someone up there. How do you think I feel, huh?”

He didn’t miss the glances exchanged by his fellow alters. ‘Cept he didn’t care, ‘cause he was right to be mad.

“Vito,” Svetlana said in a careful tone. “I am knowing you feel, what is the word, _embarrassed_? About ze tussle with Mike.”

“Don’t start with me, Lana.” Vito pointed a warning finger at her. Sure, of course Mike could beat Lana or Chester in a fight. Defeating Manitoba was a stretch, but the worst insult of all was that Mike had bested Vito. Fightin’ was his _job_ , and he’d lost to the stickman with a too-pale girlfriend.

Good thing Anne Maria hadn’t been around to see that.

“We are _needing_ to support Mike.” Svetlana looked around the table. “Zis is new to him especially.”

Vito sucked on his lip. “Yeah, well, that’s on him, ain’t it? We shouldn’t gotta suffer ‘cause Mikey Wikey wants to feel in control.”

Manitoba and Chester both frowned at him, warning signs.

“We’re all on the same team here,” Manitoba said flatly.

Vito clenched and unclenched his fists. “Don’t feel like it.” 

Svetlana sighed again. She sighed a lot lately. “Perhaps we will not be fighting so much when Mike returns to his psychiatrist.”

Her statement went unacknowledged. “I just want a hot babe,” Vito announced. “I had a hot babe, and now I don’t. Thanks to _Mike_.”

“If it’s a hot babe ya want, Mike’s datin’ Zoey now,” Manitoba pointed out. “Maybe she’ll spare you a kiss or two.”

“Woah woah woah.” Vito’s nostrils flared as he leveled a scowl at Manitoba. “I _know_ you did not just suggest Pasty could replace Anne Maria. I ain’t into Pasty. Capisce?”

Manitoba shrugged, apparently not caring he’d angered Vito. “Fair enough, bucko.”

“I would like Zoey to be teaching me how to paint the lipstick,” Svetlana piped up.

“Anne Maria coulda taught ya.” Vito stood up. “I don’t see what Zoey’s got that Annie don’t. Zoey ain’t that great.”

“Quit yer bellyaching,” Chester hollered. “It happened, he picked her. Get over it.”

“Rich comin’ from you, old man,” Manitoba quipped unhelpfully. “You complain more than a vegan at a barby.”

Chester wagged a fist in the air. “Kids these days don’t know how lucky they have it. D’you think I complained when I went off to war and I couldn’t see my wife for two years? Dang tootin’ I didn’t.”

“Ayo, shut yer mouth,” Vito said.

“Back then, we painted portraits of pretty ladies we liked.” Chester sighed. “I used to be such an artist. Then my dang arthritis started actin’ up.”

As Chester wiggled his fingers, Manitoba raised an eyebrow. “Maybe the old fart’s got a point.”

“Paintin’? You want me to _paint_?” Vito repeated in disbelief.

“I would like to paint!” Svetlana said eagerly.

“At the very least, it’ll give us something to do,” Manitoba said. “At least until Mike lets us topside again.”

Vito didn’t want to paint. He wanted to give Mike the ole’ one-two and fix this whole mess. But then he looked at Svetlana’s hopeful expression, Chester’s cranky frown, and Manitoba’s inquisitive glance. Smithy had a point; there wasn’t much else to do aside from yelling at each other, and Vito was sick of yelling at people who were just as trapped as he was.

“‘Kay, then.” Vito stood up. “Let’s get paintin’.”

As it turns out, the headspace could manifest any number of objects, paints an' canvases included. Vito was no artist, but he pretended that he was back at Uncle Vinnie’s auto shop, doin’ a custom paint job, and that did the trick. He didn’t take his time, but he didn’t rush it, either.

Pinks, oranges, yellows, and browns made up most of Vito’s palette. He worked from memory, but that was fine because he remembered everything about Anne Maria: her shiny hoop earrings, her thick dark hair, the frilly ruffles on her top, the heavy purple eyeshadow that brought out the sparkle in her eyes.

Yeah, he missed Anne Maria. And if that made him a sap, then screw it, he was a sap. He was the biggest sap north of Jersey.

In the end, they all hung their canvases on the wall of the main room, right beneath the portrait of Mike. Svetlana had detailed a portrait of herself winning gold at the Olympics. Chester’s canvas depicted a shack, probably the one he’d grown up in “before the war.” Instead of making something pretty, Manitoba had mapped out a cave system.

Vito liked his painting the best. He’d painted Anne Maria cheesin’ for the camera and surrounded by a field of wildflowers like the ones he’d picked for her the last time he’d seen her.

“I dunno if I’ll ever see ya again toots, but I ain’t forgettin’ about you that easy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for week 2 of the Total Drama Writers' Month. Prompt was 'the one that got away,' which is two-fold in this story: Anne Maria and Vito are each other's ones that got away, romantically; Anne Maria is also Zoey's one that got away, platonically. 
> 
> It could've been great.


End file.
